Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Good Mother


The house is small.
                Dirt is creeping in.
                               Dust is piling up.
        Dishes are stacking.
                     Laundry is climbing.

Tempers and Tears.

Eyes that are heavy and dark.
Not mine.
Not me.

I leave.
I come back.
I play.
I escape.
I succeed.
                                                                    I fail. 

Today I am Good.
Not the Best or the Worst.

I gave all that that I had 
                                 that could be given 
                                                          when it was needed.
                                          
I am Good.

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